


My Favorite Roegadyn

by excogs



Series: Gears Roevember 2020 [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Family Drama, Female Roegadyn (Final Fantasy XIV), Fluff, That Thing With Two Straws in a Milkshake, date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:47:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27329773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/excogs/pseuds/excogs
Summary: Eynliswys Swygeyhawyn, eleventh of the surname, grapples with taking home yet another loss from her yearly family reunion and competition. Shining Dusk attempts to cool her lover down with affections and expensive Bismarck delicacies.
Relationships: Eynliswys Swygeyhawyn/Shining Dusk, Roegadyn characters/Original character(s)
Series: Gears Roevember 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1995394
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	My Favorite Roegadyn

**Author's Note:**

> My entry for the Cactuar Femroe linkshell's Roevember day 1 prompt, "My Favorite Roegadyn," featuring my two femroe OCs, who I have decided are girlfriends as of this morning. I won't be writing for every single one of these, especially not with this many words, but if I can manage a good few more drabbles this month I will!
> 
> I don't know if milkshakes are a thing that exist in Eorzea, but I'm letting them have one anyways. Gay femroes deserve the world, or at LEAST to do the two-straws-in-a-milkshake thing, after all.

Patrons of the _Bismarck,_ Limsa Lominsa’s realm-famous eatery, oft fondly recall the near sound of lapping waves and calling cloudkin as an essential part of their fine dining experience. The sounds of daytime’s hustle and bustle, of business deals woven and broken and of once-pirates taking out their anger at being landlocked on an expensive sandwich, are typically recalled with little regard for fondness or the opposite thereof, if at all, but the lively atmosphere is largely not disliked.

What sound patrons do not expect, much less look upon as a pleasant part of their meal, however, is that of a particularly incensed Sea Wolf woman slamming her fists into the tablecloth, setting the gossamer fabric roiling as the oft-tempestuous Rhotano sea over the nearby railing, and rattling this particular whitewater sea’s ship, one two-man barge cast in glass and half-frozen bison’s milk, a cherry lookout post precariously holding ‘twixt two hollow sailposts masted in whipped cream - no less than the famed ship _The Boat Is A Metaphor For A Milkshake_ \- to near its tipping point. Thankfully, however, the Hellsguard woman across the table from the quiet afternoon’s disturber reacts quick enough to save her ship from capsizing.

The Hellsguard’s hands rush to clasp her tablemate’s. “Easy, Eynli! I get it, I truly do, it’s-”

“It bloody _stinks_ is what it is, Shine! By th’ Twelve, ‘s like they didn’t even remember me damned name!” The Sea Wolf whines. “Eynliswys! Eleventh Sister! Might as well be the _first bloody no-one_ for all me ma and pa care, though!”

Eynliswys grumbles, discontentedly squeezes the hands grasping hers, and attempts to cool off with a sip from her shared drink.

“‘Least they like ye, I reckon, Shine. Hells, they _love_ ye - ye could bloody well _spit_ on a blank page and they’d fall to their damned knees to praise yet another one of Shining Dusk’s masterlike academic works!” Eynli tosses her hands in the air in defeat, scoffing.

“Come on, Eynli, you know it’s not like that,” Shining reassures. “Their eyes glazed over whens’ I tried to explain what the paper was about. If I were a guessing woman, I’d bet they were still tickled over Doesmann’s firewalking sham.”

A round of laughter breaks out at the table. How the parents in question hadn’t noticed the powdered ice crystal Doesmann spread on his feet before walking the coals is a mystery not even the combined mental might of Eynliswys Swygeyhawyn and Shining Dusk could solve.

Eynliswys grabs the carefully-positioned cherry off of their drink and pops it into her mouth. “I guessh I don’t know what I was exshpectin’,” she grumbles, mouth largely occupied with more important matters than speaking clearly. She chews and swallows before continuing. “‘S been years, and nothin’, _nothin’_ I’ve done, not a single summer’s performance, has gotten me a lick o’ appreciation outta them! Not when I learned to jump like a bloody Dragoon, right proper learned the Sea Wolf language, wrote me own bloody arcane incantations, not one! I really thought I ‘ad ‘em this time - what’s gonna get at a pair o’ waterlogged Wolves more’n the Sharlayan magicks o’ starchartin’?!”

“What I don’t get is why you keep trying, love. The whole thing’s so obviously settled ‘fore you’ve even arrived! What kind of family tradition is ‘a yearly competition to earn your parents’ praise and attention,’ anyhow? Seems right _hellish_ to me.”

Eynliswys shakes her head, taking her straw up for a drink after Shining relinquishes the glass. “Bugger if I know. ‘N only the Twelve can say why I care so much to impress ‘em. I’m no bloody louch, aye? No Warrior o’ Light either, sure, but I’ve got some right notches in me belt, an’ the tools to fill ‘em.”

“You’re second to none, dear, at least in my mind, and most _certainly_ not second to any of your siblings. Showmans, the lot of them, because that’s exactly what they’re gonna be if showmanship is what earns ‘em love!” Shining huffs. “What a damned system. A wonder Swygeyha and Syngiblan got the one accomplished daughter out of the litter.”

“Litter?” Eynli quips back, eyeing Shining with playful discontent. “What‘m I now, a bloody _coeurl?”_

Shining laughs. “Come on, Eynli, you know what I meant. ‘S a damned _turn of phrase_.”

“Aye, well ‘ere’s ‘opin’ me own bloody _girlfriend_ don’t think o’ me as no pack cat!”

Eynliswys jabs Shining’s nose with a finger to make her point, then turns her attention back to the milkshake. Silence at the table gives way to the familiar sounds of seagulls, lapping waves, clanking silverware, and business deals around the pavilion.

“Well, for what it’s worth, Eynli?” Shining says softly, breaking the silence after a long while. “Maybe you’ll get the gold next year, maybe you won’t, hells, maybe I’ll finally convince you to give up the fools’ game, but…”

Shining reaches for the cup and pulls it towards her, one Eynliswys still attached to it by straw, and leans in. She overshoots her would-be mark, however, dodging past the straw and instead planting her lips on Eynliswys’ forehead, leaving a long, gentle kiss before retreating with a smile.

“... You’re _my_ favorite Swygeyhawyn, Eynli. Hells, my favorite Roegadyn. And ain’t that what really matters?”

Eynliswys swoons, losing herself momentarily in Shining’s emerald eyes, only finding her way back with the call of loving compliments and to stake her claim on the scant remainders of their treat.

“‘At it does, Shine,” Eynliswys says, laughing warmly. “An’ you’re me pick o’ the Hellsguard, too - of all o’ us.”  
  
“Love you, Eynli.”

“Love ye, Shine.”


End file.
